


A Smouldering Alacrity

by MissingMissFisher (bokchoynomad), PhryneFicathon



Series: Double 0 Phrack's Modern Murder Mysteries [2]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Modern AU, Undercover, casefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-08 06:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17381042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokchoynomad/pseuds/MissingMissFisher, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhryneFicathon/pseuds/PhryneFicathon
Summary: What happens when Detective Inspector Jack Robinson secretly goes undercover as part of an outlaw biker gang, and the Honourable Phryne Fisher accidentally finds out?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tinne_Peeters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinne_Peeters/gifts).



> For this year’s ficathon, I chose the prompt ‘Jack goes undercover in a bike gang and Phryne accidentally finds out.’ 
> 
> This also gave me the idea of heeding the lovely demands from everyone who wanted to read a sequel to my modern AU that I wrote for last year’s ficathon, ['A Brazen Comet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230330).' 
> 
> As a quick recap, this new adventure continues from there where Phryne is a humanitarian consultant and Jack works for the current day Australian Border Force. This story starts about six months along from where the previous one ended.
> 
> Also, due to blasted RL woes, I was sadly unable produce my usual longer casefic so hope this still helps to fill the Phrack void in our hearts until the film debuts! 
> 
> Last but not least, massive thanks to @FireSign for organizing this year’s Phryne Ficathon 4 and helping me come up with the storyline for this fic...and, huge hugs to @ComeAfterMeJackRobinson for her wonderful encouragement and beta reviews!

**_Alacrity_ ** _(əˈlakrɪti)_

_noun_

  * speed and eagerness, or willingness


  * liveliness; briskness



 

 

> _“Human love, human trust, are always perilous, because they break down. The greater the love, the greater the trust, and the greater the peril, the greater the disaster._
> 
> _Because to place absolute trust on another human being is in itself a disaster, both ways, since each human being is a ship that must sail its own course, even if it go in company with another ship...._
> 
> _And yet, love is the greatest thing between human beings.”_
> 
> ― D.H. Lawrence

 

 

> _“The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.”_
> 
> — Ernest Hemingway

 

The distinct clacking of her bespoke Jimmy Choo strappy heeled sandals gradually began to match the increasing tempo of the bass from the live music that beckoned even from several streets away. Swinging her clutch, the beautifully-attired newcomer began to sway to the beat as she neared the entrance to a recently opened night club in Fitzroy. Although she’d sooner die than ever admit it, the place could also create some tantalizing cocktails that nearly rivalled that of Mr Butler, her devoted butler.

After a long day that included a dull lunch at her society matriarch aunt’s mansion with a bunch of stuffy so-called ‘high net-worth individuals,’ the Honourable Phryne Fisher was more than ready to let loose on the dance floor. Not that she would ever shirk her duties as a notable philanthropist and award-winning humanitarian. It was just that it always took such an inordinate amount of additional energy, not to mention her valuable time, to be forced to wine and dine with people who felt they had the right to dictate how experts should be doing their jobs simply because they had cheque books that regularly dispensed with seven or eight figures.

The irony was that her own wealth funded a major component of the charity that she had founded in memory of her younger sister, Janey, and more recently, also dedicated to her sweet cousin, Arthur. Phryne knew her loved ones would more than approve of her ongoing pursuit of social justice for those who didn’t have the means or the influence to do so for themselves. She also knew they would both be rolling their eyes at the antics of some of the people and groups she was forced to hobnob with in order to secure more funding and influence for her work.

The music wrapped itself around her being in welcomed invitation as she approached the surprisingly short queue at the entrance. Eventually, she bequeathed a languid wink to the bouncer who eyed her appreciatively before sashaying into the trendy open space and headed straight for the oval-shaped bar. Phryne appreciated the sleek design of the counter that resembled the glowing ring around a planet, constantly and cleverly drawing the room’s occupants into its orbit.

She placed her cocktail order and began to daydream as she eyed a particular booth not far off with a secretive smile. Had it only been a few nights ago that she had found herself cozily ensconced there in that slightly secluded corner wrapped around her favourite detective inspector?

Normally, she and her seemingly reserved partner tried to maintain some semblance of respectability due to the need to maintain a suitable public image, especially in deference to their high-profiled personas. But, he had been heading off for some conference in Brisbane for the week, and she had only just returned from her first humanitarian trip in some time. And so, they only had one evening to catch up and bid one another a hasty farewell due to their hectic ‘ships in the night’ schedule of late.

Oh, she had been sorely tempted to exchange her work togs to join him on the ‘Sunshine Coast.’ Before they had finally stopped dancing around one another, Phryne was already more than adept at intertwining her pathways with that of the aloof Senior Detective Inspector Jack Robinson. In those early days, he had tried to balk at her so-called ‘civilian interference’ in his specialized cases with the Australian Border Force. As though it could make any difference whatsoever in the wake of her supercharged brazenness. Even from the start, he had always been grudgingly appreciative of her unorthodox ‘research methods’ on humanitarian projects that often overlapped with the ABF’s security aims. From there, little did either realize that their lives would collide and merge on so many other levels and require much more _intimate_ investigating.

With another glance at the memorable booth and, indeed, the wonderful memories of their night-long farewell that followed afterward at home, Phryne felt a smidgen of... _what_ exactly? It had never been her style to pine over any man. But, that was before the inspector had somehow managed to slip through the usual parade orbiting around her to entrench himself within her core being. Even now, as she secretly berated herself due to this sappiness over missing her partner, she could hear his voice reassuring her that she had made the right choice to remain behind for the sake of her foster daughter, Janah, or Jane, as she preferred to be called.

Phryne had, in fact, turned down many field assignments over the past six months since Jack had pulled some strings with Immigration and Welfare to speed up the process for Phryne to foster Jane. The young girl was still recovering from her traumatic ordeal of being trafficked from Syria, and detained offshore as an unwanted refugee. Thus, both Phryne and Jack and their closest friends had rallied around to ensure Jane’s transition into the melee of their adopted family was as smooth as possible. It meant ever so much to her to know that her partner had so heartily prioritized Jane’s arrival and settling in period over his own major life-changing decision to accept her invitation to move in with her not too long following their joint undercover case where they had first met and rescued Jane from her sordid plight.

As though conjured, Phryne’s phone buzzed, the sensation tickling her hip from where it nestled in the clever pocket of her specially-designed dress. Slipping it out, her face lit up in visible delight at the notification that she had received a message. From Jack. Unlike her novella-like ones to him, his remained concise and to the point:

**Missing you, Miss Fisher. Wish you were here. Jack x**

Grinning like an idiot, she quickly took a gulp of the fluorescent green like substance of her cocktail concoction before positioning herself so that ‘their’ booth would be visible just over her shoulder. Snapping a selfie with a teasing pout, she sent it off to him with her own jaunty message:

**Hurry back, Jack, before I find someone else to share our booth with me. P xxx**

With a secretive smirk, Phryne pressed send before checking the time on her phone. Her best friend, Mac, was due any minute to join her for an after work drink. Just enough time to let the inspector stew about her threat until she could send photographic evidence of his replacement tonight. Known to the outside world as the renowned Dr Elizabeth MacMillan, the sought-after medical forensics expert, Mac was also one of Phryne’s dearest friends. The two women could trace their history back to the days when they were both forced to grow up too soon in the ‘slums’ of Collingwood. Thoughts of her friend had the philanthropist scanning the busy club searching for Mac’s unmistakable red hair.

Just as her eyes roved past the notorious booth, Phryne’s gut suddenly clenched when she spied a familiar figure now occupying the previously vacant spot. His back was to her and his slightly tousled head was bent as he seemed to be studying something down on the table in front of him, so she couldn’t be sure. Even from her spot near the bar, she could tell the man was wearing nearly an identical leather jacket to one that she not only often saw, but had had the frequent pleasure of running her hands over with her arms tightly about the owner’s waist whilst they both rode his vintage or modern motorbike.

 _Jack’s in Brisbane_ , Phryne assured herself as she shook her head slightly and took another sip of her drink. She was seeing things and going so crazy from all this mooning over Jack that she was now seeing him. Impatiently, she glanced against towards the entrance and whirled back to face the bar, willing Mac to materialize and slap her out of this nonsense. Even so, her rampant curiosity was drawn back to that booth.

The music sped up along with her pulse as she try to casually peek over her shoulder just in time to see a stunning woman approach the booth. _See, it can’t be Jack_ , she chided herself, watching as the statuesque brunette leaned over to greet the man with a kiss on the cheek before sliding elegantly into the booth across from him. As the man continued to focus on whatever it was he had been doing previously, the woman shrugged off her jacket (latest line from Gucci, Phryne couldn’t help noting) and leaned over the table to take his hand in a way that showed this wasn’t a first encounter between the two. The gesture was confident, yet tender at the same time. They were obviously very comfortable with one another. Her attention wandered about the room again as she wondered where her usually punctual friend had gotten to, although given Mac’s line of work that also included consulting for the police, anything could have delayed her.

Flicking a final glance towards the couple in the corner, Phryne wasn’t sure whether this hypersensitivity at observing these two strangers was due to her innate observational skills or the fact she personally experienced this level of intimacy regularly now. Something that she had sworn to herself she would never allow herself to experience again, and yet was this very minute yearning for it, damn it!

Her fingers itched to send another message to Jack, but before they could react, she felt that distinct tingling from deep inside that always served as an effective internal warning device on more than one occasion (such as from stepping onto an undetonated landmine).

This time, however, it might have been too late as suddenly, the man she had been more or less spying on for the better part of her evening since she’d arrived jerked his head upright as though something had startled him. Judging from the concerned expression and words from his companion, the woman had also noticed that something was wrong. He quickly withdrew his hand from hers and craned his head around, his eyes swinging about the room with focused intent until they zoned in and locked directly with hers.

Feeling as though the air around and within her had indeed erupted, Phryne Fisher gasped audibly, just barely catching her cocktail glass from slipping to a splintered demise as she stared back in shock.

Right into the undeniable eyes of Jack Robinson.


	2. Chapter 2

“Phryne Fisher, I have never known you to pass out once in your life, so don’t you dare start right now!”

Mac’s threatening tone reached Phryne like a lifeline, jolting her upright from where she had been in danger of sagging off the edge of the luminescent countertop of the oval-shaped bar.

“Mac, thank god, you’re here!”

Phryne whirled to face her best friend with such a relieved expression that the other woman’s stern visage instantly transformed into one of open concern. The doctor quickly snatched the drink from Phryne’s still shaking hand and gave it a dubious sniff before eyeing it and then scanning her friend clinically.

“It’s not that,” Phryne muttered with an exaggerated eye roll, as she grabbed her friend’s arm and yanked her so she had a clear view of that wretched booth. “It’s that! Or _them_ , to be precise.”

“If it’s not the drink or whatever might have been added to it,” Mac retorted as she squinted skeptically in the direction her friend was waving towards, “then something is causing you to see double. All I see is a very attractive brunette who’s leaving her spot and seems to be heading straight this way now.”

“What the…!” Phryne whirled back around only to quickly face the counter again.

She tilted her head quickly to the side, her eyes transmitting a message that only her oldest friend could decipher. With an overly drawn out sigh, Mac stepped away and dramatically parked herself onto one of the bright green bar stools closest to where her friend was still leaning against the bar. Far enough away to give Phryne a modicum of privacy, but just close enough to be ready for action. Just in case. One didn’t get to hold a prime spot in Phryne Fisher’s inner sanctum for several decades without learning to adapt accordingly after all. Placing her drink order, the doctor managed to mask her overwhelming curiosity at whatever this latest predicament was that her crazy friend had chucked her into now.

Whatever it was, Mac knew it was serious. The forensics expert could count on one hand the number of time she had truly encountered Phryne this spooked. And that was saying a lot for someone who regularly witnessed more harrowing conditions than anyone should ever be aware of, let alone have frontline experience of. As no stranger to unsual encounters herself due to her own line of work, Mac had grown more accustomed of late to sharing the responsibility of being Phryne’s first port of call. No one was more surprised than perhaps Phryne herself, when Mac suspected how deeply entrenched a certain detective inspector had become within the fabric of her free-spirited friend’s life and heart. Although her loyalty would always remain with her childhood friend, Mac had much respect for the man whose unwavering integrity in both his professional and personal life complemented his ability to support and ground her friend so solidly, especially when it came to Phryne’s penchant for finding herself embroiled in the unexpected. The doctor sighed again and braced herself mentally for the fact that it would be all up to her tonight due to the fact her fellow ‘shock absorber’ was out of town.

As the barkeeper announced her drink, Mac took the opportunity to flick her eyes over the mysterious woman who had now arrived at the bar and stopped in the gap right between Phryne and Mac. She wore a uniquely-designed outfit in vibrant black and red that enhanced her long, dark hair and olive complexion to perfection. Her perfectly proportioned features exuded a sweet and innocent air. But, both Mac and Phryne were trained to observe and capture the minutest of details, and thus, they both detected the powerful influence this woman obviously had in spades, but held back for whatever reason. The woman looked at the still nearly full glass Phryne was toying with before flicking her observant gaze at Mac who was just taking a gulp of her whisky. The newcomer then leaned over to shout out an order in fluent Italian to the barkeeper before turning towards Phryne with a small smile.

"Good evening, I see we have a mutual friend,” she began without any preamble. “ _Gianni_.” She then glanced around before mouthing ‘Jack’ in response to the unspoken question that loomed in Phryne’s gaze. Already on guard, Phryne instinctively knew she shouldn’t repeat her partner’s name out loud.

“Yes, so it would seem,” Phryne replied non-comitally with her fake smile, ignoring the raised eyebrow from Mac who had looked up briefly. Secretly, the philanthropist was more than relieved to have her best friend present and well within range in solidarity even though Mac didn’t have a clue what was going on.

“To friendship then,” the woman lifted her glass of red wine after passing the other to Phryne that had materialized seemingly out of nowhere. She glanced towards the barkeeper who grinned with a flirtatious wink before moving on to the next customer.

“Yes, to old friends,” Phryne toasted before venturing onward nonchalantly. “So, I take it you know Gianni well then?”

“Oh, well enough,” the Italian beauty responded vaguely with one of her innocent smiles. “We met when he was leading on a case last year actually. And since then, he’s been a regular.” She paused at the understandable confusion clouding the Phryne’s expression. “Next door, I mean, at my family’s restaurant.”

“He must like the food,” Phryne commented casually with another large gulp of the wine as her unexpected drinking buddy simply smiled enigmatically with a slight nod.

“He must.”

_Who the hell was this woman?_

A glance over the woman’s shoulder showed Mac’s face mirroring her exact thoughts. Phryne gripped her glass as she willed her usually dependable composure to remain intact.

Before either could continue their stilted conversation, their attention was stolen by a commotion on the other side of the bar as the barkeeper began yelling at a man with a jagged scar running down the side of his face. The handsome young man ducked just as someone else dove over the counter to tackle him, knocking over the scarred man instead. The barkeeper struggled back to his feet and swung a punch at his attacker, only to lose his balance and collide with a series of drinks as he fell across the bar. The sound of shattering glass was punctuated by screams and ongoing yelling by the man and others who had joined the fray.

Suddenly, one deep voice seized the room’s attention, its authoritative tone seizing the atmosphere around the fracas. Phryne felt Mac grip her arm as they both froze on the spot at the sight of Jack Robinson commandeering the scene. Along with everyone else in close proximity, the two gawked like school girls at the sight of him in a tight, black t-shirt and close-fitting leather trousers as he pulled the scarred-face man off the counter. Jerking his head at the barkeeper, another biker-clad man approached and hauled the young man over the counter.

Phryne gasped audibly when she only just realized the Italian woman had disappeared from their side of the bar only to materialize on the other side right next to bar. She was gripping a leather jacket that she held out to Jack, helping him into it as he continued to bark commands at the other biker who had already dragged his charge halfway towards a back entrance. Jack began to follow suit whilst still gripping the arm of the older man.

But, just as he reached the back door, he whipped his head around to stare directly at Phryne again with laser-like precision. With an infinitesimal blink and the subtle tilt of the chin, Jack turned abruptly to march away just as the sounds of angry sirens began blaring from outside the club.


	3. Chapter 3

Phryne leaned over, pressing her forehead against the cool pane of glass where she sat in the window seat huddled with her knees drawn up against her. It was extremely early for her to be awake, but after tossing and turning from her inability to sleep, she had given up any pretense of rest. Staring out at nothing in particular, she tightened her grip on Jack’s pillow that she had been unwilling to relinquish like a forlorn child with a safety blanket. Gradually, the preternatural light preparing to usher in the dawn revealed a dark shadow separating itself from the perimeter of Mr Butler’s perfectly trimmed hedgerows before disappearing again. It was mostly likely the neighbour’s cat out prowling for an early breakfast.

After Jack had moved in, Phryne had readily agreed to have him add some extra security measures to their home, especially for the sake of Jane and the rest of her household. That had only prompted her friends, Bert and Cec, a pair of conspiracy-loving, app-designing, Uber drivers to continue adding a few more features gleaned from their wealth of geeky knowledge when it came to things like this. The philanthropist had never really worried too much about something like that when she had first arrived back in Australia a year ago when it had only been herself. Now, she could understand the necessity of it with her growing household and adopted family to consider as well.

Although it felt like an eternity ago, the reality was that it had only been hours since they had gotten hold of Bert and Cec to come and rescue them from the club when both women realized they were too inebriated to attempt doing so themselves. Phryne and Mac had stayed another hour at the club to drain away a few more questionable drinks when their planned evening of frivolous revelry had taken such a different turn. It had been all too apparent that Jack must have been involved in some sort of undercover stint that he had not been permitted to tell anyone about, including his partner.

Neither of the two friends could for the life of them, however, work out the sudden conundrum of the mysterious Italian beauty and her place in Jack Robinson’s life. If the woman hadn’t come over to the bar to so obviously fish for personal information from Phryne, the philanthropist might have been able to assume the stranger’s presence was only part of his cover. But, no, even now, Phryne still bristled as she recalled the definite, territorial stance that the other woman had conveyed, some hint of _something_ that she obviously shared with Jack. And this mystery was what still ate at Phryne’s insides most of all, even now no matter how she tried to ignore it.

Oh, she still completely trusted her noble inspector and knew he was entitled to a past just like she was. She knew that he had really gone away to Brisbane, and somehow, had to return tonight because he was simply doing his job. She also knew that Jack would explain everything to her in due course. All the same, it had taken all of Mac’s influence with her childhood friend to not go find and ransack the family restaurant that this mystery woman had alluded to.

Mac had also offered to stay the night, but Phryne had insisted that she would be all right and for her friend to go home and get a good night’s rest after her double shift. She promised the doctor that she would be fine, and that she would call or message her friend if she needed anything. Even after Mac had returned home, the two friends continued to try hashing out more of the strange events of the evening via instant messaging. But, there was not much to go on until they had more leads. And although she had dispatched her faithful consultants to discover more, the intrepid humanitarian knew there was nothing for it. The only way to get the truth she sought was to go straight to the source.

With that resolution, she reached for her phone in frustration at not being able to simply ring Jack there and then. As though it could read her thoughts, the device suddenly vibrated silently startling her into dropping it accidentally. Letting go of the pillow, Phryne leant over precariously to scoop up her mobile, nearly dropping it again when the notification teased her with Jack’s name before disappearing again. Impatiently punching in her passcode, she glared at the screen, scrunching up her nose at the cryptic message that finally materialized:

**MF**  
**H, II, ii, 116-124**  
**12 N, II, iii, 107-8**  
**H, III, i, 121**  
**JR x**

“Damn it, Jack!” She couldn’t help muttering, her exhausted mind complained at having to do any more thinking at that very moment. Even so, her ingrained curiosity had already begun to rapidly analyze the jumble of letters and numbers whilst ignoring her traitorous heart for fluttering over Jack’s efforts to create a heart shape out of his bizarre message.

“Leave it to you to send me coded coordinates in the dead of the night, Inspector.” Even as she spoke the words to herself, she instantly knew what her inspector was actually referencing.

Unfolding herself from the window seat, Phryne made her way back over towards the end of the bed, still clutching her phone and Jack’s pillow. Her gaze took in the neat pile of books stacked on Jack’s bedside table. She made her way over towards them, plumping the pillow against the headboard before climbing back under the undisturbed side of his covers. She flicked on his bedside lamp and traced her fingers along the spines of the volumes, smiling at the paperback Westerns that she still liked to tease him for indulging in.

Bypassing those, her perfectly manicured nail tapped on the oldest book in the stack: Jack’s dogeared edition of Shakespeare’s tragedy, _Hamlet_. Nearly anyone who got to know Jack Robinson would soon discover the man’s love for the Bard. Pulling the book out carefully from the pile, Phryne balanced her phone’s screen so she could read the first reference of his message. It didn’t take long for to find Act 2, Scene 2. She couldn’t deny the sense of anticipation building up as her finger traced down the page towards lines 116 to 124.

_“Doubt thou the stars are fire. Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar. But never doubt I love.”_

“Damn you, Jack!” She found herself cursing out loud again as tears threatened to prick her eyes as they took in the poetic declaration before her. Although she had already concluded that he was working undercover, her heart warmed at his obvious attempts to reassure her since he knew she had seen him at the club with the mysterious Italian woman. Neither of them had still ever really articulated their feelings to such an extent, not even since he had moved in with her. Theirs had always been a satisfying connection brimming with equal parts battles of the wits and laced with scintillating banter and smouldering innuendo. Leave it to him to make such a bold, romantic declaration through the words of his beloved Shakespeare. She felt like simultaneously smacking and kissing him for putting her through this, conveniently ignoring the fact that this was probably how he might feel about all the predicaments that she’d landed him in since they had first met.

The buzzing of her phone jolted her from her mushy thoughts. It was a message from Cec who had sent her a link in response to her request for the two conspiracists to see what they could dig up about Jack’s Italian friend. She decided to finish decoding Jack’s message first and skipped the middle one to his third reference to save time since she still had _Hamlet_ open. She flipped ahead to Scene 3, Act 2 and didn’t know whether to curse again or laugh out loud at the line:

_“Get thee to a nunnery.”_

“Bit too late for that, Inspector,” she quipped, replacing the book back on with the others on the bedside table. She glanced again at the titles and huffed in exasperation when she didn’t find what she was looking for. Jack’s second reference of ‘12 N’ led her to deduce that he was telling her to check out _Twelfth Night._ Slumping back against her comfortable perch, the last thing she felt like doing was wandering back downstairs to the library which now stored the majority of her partner’s massive book collection. Her phone buzzed again, reminding her of Cec’s unread message.

Of course! She had the world wide web’s library right at her very fingertips, her foggy brain managed to remind her. Tapping her phone’s browser, Phryne quickly punched in the reference and waited as the results appeared before her. They all highlighted the following phrase:

” _Do you think because you are virtuous, that there shall be no more cakes and ale?”_

Phryne threw down her phone in frustration before turning over and launching herself face first down onto the bed, again muttering a litany of complaints against the man whose scent flooded her exhausted senses as it wafted from his pillow. Normally, she adored puzzles and conundrums of all sorts. But, not at the crack of dawn after a long day and emotionally jarring evening saturated with dubiously-coloured alcohol. She began to feel her eyes drift slowly closed, comforted by the familiar fragrance of Jack’s soap and cologne that always had a calming effect on her (much like the inspector himself, well, when he wasn’t plaguing her with cryptic messages or unknown women).

Next thing she knew, the sound of a knock on the bedroom door seemed to reverberate her skull, jolting her instantly awake. Every muscle protested even as she burrowed deeper beneath the pillow and covers to escape the painful light attempting to pierce her eyelids that felt like they had fused themselves closed.

“Sorry, Miss Phryne,” came the familiar voice of her trusty assistant, Dot. “But, it’s nearly noon, and you’ve got that follow-up luncheon for the foundation in an hour. I thought I’d better wake you now.”

“Thanks, Dot,” Phryne managed to reply in a muffled tone, her head still beneath the pillows. “You’re a lifesaver as usual.” She was too tired to try to persuade Dot from her constant insistence of addressing her so formally in spite of how long they’d known one another.

“Mr B’s made you a double espresso, and I’ve just baked some scones as well,” Dot added. “I’ll leave it all here by the inspector’s bedside table. Too bad he’s not here since I know they’re some of his favourite”

“Too bad indeed,” Phryne couldn’t help responding with a touch of sarcasm as she quickly recalled Jack’s odd message about cakes and ale. She then managed to extricate herself from her tangled bed to prop herself up against the headboard, squinting slightly with a grimace of smile when the younger woman began to close the offending opened blinds.

“Do you need anything else at the moment?” Dot asked as she started to make her way towards the door. “I picked up that suit you wanted to wear for the luncheon from the dry cleaners and left it in the ensuite for you.”

“Thank you, Dot, I think I can manage for now. Have I had any messages today so far?” Phryne began poking around the covers and pillows hunting for her smartphone. Dot quickly returned to the bed to help.

“Actually, yes, both Bert and Cec have been trying to get hold of you this morning too. Something about a background check you asked them to do? Sounds like they’ve dug up some intel about an Italian woman and her businesses?”

“Fabulous news!,” the humanitarian then quickly brief her assistant about her odd encounter and messages from the previous evening as she reached for the breakfast tray.

“By the way, Dot, what comes to mind if I were to say the words: ‘nunnery,’ ‘cake and ale’ together? My brain still hasn’t switched on completely, and I need to figure out what those mean in combination with one another.”

“Hmm, let me think,” Dot responded, completely used to taking her employer’s odd requests in stride, as she continued to look for Phryne’s phone. “Well, nowadays, a nunnery would be a convent, wouldn’t it? There are only a handful now that are still used by various orders since not many people are going for holy vocations any longer. And, obviously, ‘cake and ale’ together makes me think of a cafe, or a pub...or restaurant of some sort where you could find both at the same time, maybe?”

“You’re absolutely brilliant, Dot!” Phryne embraced her friend who had just retrieved the elusive mobile. “Now, I just need to figure out why Jack wants me to find a cafe or pub that has to do with a convent.” She slipped out of the bed and made her way towards the bathroom.

“Looks like Cec might be able to help with that,” Dot replied, as she quickly flicked through Phryne’s phone to review the unread messages. “I think this is what he and Bert have been trying to get hold of you about.”

Phryne whirled around to take a look herself as she scanned the message she had missed. The boys had discovered that the owners of the restaurant next door to the nightclub were a wealthy Italian family by the name of Strano who had emigrated to Australia decades ago. They now apparently owned a string of other food-related businesses, including a new artisanal bakery that was due to launch by the end of the month. She grinned suddenly after the link that Cec had texted her opened on her browser revealing the soon-to-be grand opening of the bakery. It was going to be based on some former land that had belonged to the Sacred Order of the Sisters of Abbotsford. And, it would seem they were currently recruiting for an array of new staff to join their new team.

“Just exactly how many of those scones did you bake this morning, Dot?”


	4. Chapter 4

Except for the muted echoes of some nocturnal creature, most likely an owlet-nightjar, no other sound could be heard down the otherwise empty corridor. The lone occupant was too well-trained to allow any movements to be traceable, save for the odd shadow that materialized when he passed one of the hallway’s windows that still valiantly captured some streams of moonlight through their dusty stained glass. As he approached the second doorway to his left, the night wanderer paused, instinctively slipping his hand inside his leather jacket, before turning the door handle.

Easing open the massive oak-panelled door, a first glance revealed nothing but the sparsely furnished room just the way he had left it earlier in the day. Even so, he made sure to check under the bed and even inside the plain wardrobe before warily perching on the end of the bed, lifting a hand to massage the growing tension from his temple, managing to stifle the groan of frustration he felt when a slight scratching noise began from somewhere outside the room. Rising silently to his feet, he edged back towards the still open door towards the corridor, his weapon now openly held in both his hands. No one was going to disturb him tonight, not after he had made extra sure that he couldn’t be followed. Strangely, the stained-glass gloom revealed a still empty hall, yet instinct and years of training and experience alerted him that he was no longer alone.

He suddenly whirled around and stomped back into the room before pouncing on the dark figure now in the centre of the room. Wrapping his long arms around the intruder, he attacked her lips with his like a starving man, kicking the door shut behind him after sliding his gun safely away.

“But, I was quiet as a mouse,” she managed to gasp out in between kisses. “One who deliberately didn’t wear _any_ perfume tonight.”

“I’d recognize you and your scent anywhere,” he growled just as she’d rid him of his leather jacket and they stumbled together towards the bed. Neither cared one whit about the abandoned building’s distinct lack of heat as their ardent reunion was providing more than sufficient fuel to the atmosphere.

“How primitively alpha male, of you!” she teased, “If I’d known, I might have donned my cavewoman’s outfit for the occasion.”

“I’m much more interested in divesting you of clothing at the moment, Phryne, in case you hadn’t noticed,” he murmured against the side of her neck, only stopping to flash her that all-too familiar expression of fond exasperation that never failed to delight her.

“Oh, so am I, Jack,” she concurred, but couldn’t resist adding. “But, aren’t you the teensiest bit impressed that I worked out your ridiculous code?”

“You know I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t,” he paused again in his ministrations to roll his eyes at her. “Although, it’s not safe for you to be here. No one else knows that I’m here, except for…”

“That woman,” Phryne interjected, sitting up abruptly, as the heated air between them suddenly froze into an invisible icy barrier.

“Well, yes,” Jack said as he, too, sat up and reach out to tentatively grasp her arms in concern. “Phryne, please, let me explain.”

Relief trickled throughout him when she didn’t interrupt or resist him when he began pulling her into his arms. He cleared his throat when she remained uncharacteristically silent, tilting his head down so he could see her eyes. He managed to tuck away a grin at the familiar, slightly defiant expression she wore.

“I really was attending a security conference in Brisbane initially. But, just as I’d arrived, there had been an assassination attempt here in Melbourne of a prominent immigration solicitor. He was someone the ABF worked with closely so we were shocked to hear that there was a second attempt that quickly followed. Only this time, they got him, right as he was leaving for the day, straight through the open window of his car. Professional hit, no doubt about it.”

“Oh no, that’s terrible, Jack!” She exclaimed as he nodded grimly before continuing.

“And then we discovered that a legal assistant has gone missing as well. Local woman in her twenties”

“Missing? As in abducted?”

“The evidence is leading us to believe so, especially as she never showed up for work that day. Apparently, she went out to see some friends the night before, but never made it home. And there were no signs that she had been preparing to leave for an extended time.”

“I hope she wasn’t forcibly detained from returning home! Do you have any leads yet?”

“Not about the possible abduction yet. Due to the international focus of the solicitor’s case, the ABF has been pulled in to partner with others to gather more intel about the potential suspects linked to the assassination. I can’t go into specifics at the moment, but it’s now a joint investigation with the Italian government, Phryne. Next thing I knew, I was immediately assigned to go deep undercover to lead it before some key leads could go cold."

"With her?” She tried to keep her voice at normal pitch, but she never could fool him entirely. Jack sighed, squeezing her more closely to him, whilst secretly relishing in her obvious jealousy.

“Yes, with Concetta,” he remarked casually, tightening his hold on her when she stiffened. “She’s an old friend, Phryne.” He bit back a grin when she bristled again.

“When you say ‘old friend,’ does that mean like Mac? Or…” she trailed off, brushing some invisible lint off her knee. Jack gently grasped her chin and nudged it so he could look into his eyes again.

“We met when I was still working homicide for the Victorian Constabulary, shortly before I first met you actually. I was assigned a case involving her husband’s mysterious death, one that went cold because we could never get anything substantial on the suspect unfortunately. He was gunned down in public, but frustratingly, there didn’t seem to be any witnesses despite how much we canvassed or polled the community.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Jack. It’s always the worst when you know a suspected killer is still roaming free.” She reached out to stroke his clenched jaw, which immediately relaxed as he clasped her hand in his. He continued in answer to her unspoken questions.

“Concetta was training as an Italian linguistic interpreter and translator at the time, in between helping out at her family’s restaurant. She’s done quite well for herself, having qualified to interpret for major clients including the UN, and now also for the Italian government on international cases. Her expertise is quite sought after and very instrumental due to her inside knowledge of the culture. And the fact she knows many of the different dialects.”

“So, that’s why she’s working with you now?” Phryne congratulated herself on managing to keep a neutral tone, especially in light of Jack’s obvious admiration for this other woman’s accomplishments.

“Yes, she’d already been doing some undercover research for the Australian Criminal Intelligence Commission related to outlaw biker gangs. The ABF has been following similar leads on local Italian mob connections that also point to outlaw motorcycle gangs here in Melbourne. So, tonight was our first stakeout whilst undercover right where we knew one of the suspects might show up. I really wanted to tell you, and took a risk by sneaking you that message with my personal phone tonight....”

He trailed off, knowing he couldn’t reveal more, and wasn’t certain how to handle the implications of all this. All the same, her unnatural silence was now becoming rather unnerving.

“Phryne?”

“What am I supposed to say, Jack? That I’m fine with the fact you’ve had to infiltrate a dangerous, criminal biker gang that’s suspected to have murdered a high-profile lawyer in broad daylight? That you can’t even come home at night or be in touch with me directly so I’m left to wonder whether you’ll be next once they discover your true identity?”

Jack suddenly broke off her worried tirade with a passionate kiss that he tried to fill with as much tender reassurance as he could to assauage her unspoken questions. At first she resisted, but then eventually capitulated, venting her anger into the heated moment as their bodies instinctively resumed where they had left off previously. Perhaps it was the combination of their being forced to be apart, or the increased danger and intensity of Jack’s undercover case. Whatever it was, their abrupt lovemaking tonight was charged with an almost unearthly element of thunder that crashed between and around them, leaving them both breathless and clinging to the other like lifelines in the aftermath of a storm.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Phryne whispered eventually against his shoulder.

“What have I told you about apologizing?” He joked, although a stab of pain took hold of a small corner of his heart as he quickly marshalled himself against whatever was coming next. With Miss Fisher, one never knew.

“No, let me get it out, Jack. It’s not just the danger that you’re up against with this latest case that I’m worried about. That’s always going to be a given for both of us given our chosen professions, I know that.”

“It’s OK, love, I know what you mean.” He caught her hand and kissed her palm tenderly before continuing. “I’m sorry you had to find out about my assignment that way before I could tell you about it. I really do wish you could go undercover with me this time as well. I know that we’re better together, especially when it comes to a case.”

“Amongst other pursuits,” she grinned seductively, resorting to her usual banter when her heartful of emotions threatened to erupt from the fact he had immediately understood the source of her fear and worry.

“That’s why I wanted you to look into this old place,” he continued as she began to climb on top of him. “I have a hunch it might hold some links to the hit on the solicitor as well as the missing girl. But, I don’t have the time to or resources to follow through with that line at the moment as I need to prioritize the assassination.”

“Are you sure you want me to do more digging, Jack? Doesn’t this new bakery that’s opening soon belong to Concetta’s family though? Could they actually be involved with the mob somehow? And, would you be happy for that to come to light?” Leave it to her to get to the heart of the matter without mentioning what the situation was doing to her own heart.

“Phryne, I’ve already long suspected that Concetta’s husband was murdered due to her family’s alleged links to the mob, we just haven’t been able to prove anything yet. She knows enough about my suspicions, and wants justice to be had for her husband whatever the truth may bring. It’s why she’s arranged for me to camp out here when I’m not with the bikers. There was no way I wanted any of them being able to trace their way back to you and everyone at home.”

“Speaking of trace, do you smell that?” Phryne asked suddenly, as she slipped off the bed and began sniffing about whilst quickly dressing.

“Now that you mention it, there does seem to be something different than the usual dankness.” Jack quickly followed suit, shrugging back into his leather jacket and making sure his gun was within easy reach.

He followed his partner out the door and down the hall towards the stairs. They both reached the bottom to see a storage room door had been left slightly opened.

“This was definitely shut when I made my way up earlier,” Jack confirmed, pushing the door open with his gun aimed into the empty darkness. Phryne had followed him inside the doorway, still sniffing, as her eyes took in a few sacks of flour, some of which looked as though they’d been recently disturbed. Her eyes widened in horror as she grabbed Jack’s hand and pulled him out the door, only glancing back as one of the sacks began to teeter precariously.

“Run, Jack! It’s a bomb!”

They sprinted off into the night, nearly making it across the courtyard when a roaring sound ripped through the night air. The force of the ensuing blast propelled them both straight into the stagnant waters of a large stone fountain as the world shattered around them.


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh, look, she’s blinking! I think she’s finally waking up. Quick, Bert, Cec! Go find Dr Mac!”

“Both of us?”

“It’ll be quicker if you split up, Bert! Why don’t you go check her office, and, Cec, you scan the cafeteria since she was stopping by there with Jane earlier.”

Pain pierced through Phryne’s groggy eyelids in the form of light even as it screamed from what must have been thousands of bruises throughout her body. She barely registered the good-natured mumbling from the men as they quickly departed to do Dot’s bidding.

“No, try not to move, Miss Phryne,” came Dot’s gentle voice that was still infused with the authoritative tone she mainly reserved for Bert and Cec. “You’re in hospital, and you’re fine. We’re all right here with you.”

Suddenly, everything she last remembered flashed into her mind, including the sounds, heat and feel of the explosion.

“Jack!” Phryne’s voice cracked out in panic, prompting the appearance of a glass of water against her lips, and a comforting hand on her arm. “Where’s Jack?”

“He’s not here, miss,” Dot informed her, trying to prevent Phryne from struggling to sit up, before switching to a soothing tone. “But, don’t worry, the inspector is OK, too, thank God! I can’t tell you how many prayers I’ve been saying for both of you since we got the call that you’d been...been….” Her faithful assistant suddenly struggled with a rush of tears of relief that threatened now that she knew her dear friend and employer was awake.

“Oh, Dot,” Phryne rasped out, attempting to comfort her distraught friend. “Like you said, I’m fine with only a few scratches. I’ll be OK.” Not knowing the full facts of her injuries, she felt she could assure her friend of this considering she was able to move all her limbs at least.

“I was terrified when Hugh called and all I’d heard was the word, ‘bomb’!” Dot paused to take a deep breath, calming herself visibly. “But, you’re right, the point is that you’re fine, and the inspector is fine. Oh, I’m so glad you’re alive, miss!” She wanted to hug her mentor, but managed to hold back, taking Phryne’s hand and squeezed it happily instead.

“So am I, Dot, so am I,” she agreed before gripping her assistant’s hand tightly. “And are you sure the inspector is all right?”

Instantly, hazy images and vague sensations scrambled through her mind of icy water, burning heat, the sound of Jack’s voice calling out to her, his hands gripping her face before it went all black again.

“The inspector stayed with you even after the ambulance crew brought you both here,” Dot explained as she regained her usual composure and sought to relieve her boss’ worries, even showing Phryne Hugh’s latest text message on her phone confirming this. “He wouldn’t leave your side even after the Chief Commissioner rang him, and ordered him back to work after he’d gotten the all clear. Hugh said it’s due to this high-profiled case he’s working on.”

Phryne nodded, obviously disappointed that she wouldn’t get to see him, but also more than overwhelmingly relieved to know he had emerged from their mishap whole and well enough to be ordered straight back undercover. Dot was concerned about her friend’s silence, especially when Phryne didn’t seem to react at all to this news.

“Try not to worry, miss. In fact, Inspector Robinson actually tried to quit the case, and even threatened to quit his job when they wouldn’t let him stay here with you!”

“And a bloody good thing I convinced him not to,” came a familiar, sardonic voice as Mac suddenly materialized and marched straight over to inspect Phryne’s vitals. “Told him he was being utterly ridiculous, and that you’d have his hide if he threw everything away when he didn’t have to.” Secretly, the doctor was rather pleased to witness the depth and public display of the inspector’s feelings and commitment to her best friend, but she would certainly never reveal this to him. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Oh, I thought it was really romantic,” said another voice. Jane Ross, Phryne’s foster daughter had entered the room behind Mac, flanked by Cec and Bert. The girl vaulted straight for the bedside and threw her arms around Phryne’s waist who wrapped her own arms around the young woman in a tight embrace. Of course, Jack could do no wrong in the eyes of the pre-teen who fairly idolized the inspector. She was so grateful that he still played such a major part in her life after he and Phryne had rescued her from human traffickers.

“We’re really glad to see you’re all right, Miss P!” Cec grinned his own relief, elbowing Bert in the ribs before he could comment about the inspector being referred to as romantic. The two friends were rather outspoken regarding their pointed political views that they especially loved to espouse around Jack whom they both begrudgingly respected even if he was a copper with the ‘feds.’ Besides, it was enough for them that he held such an important place in Miss Phryne’s life.

“Thank you, Cec,” Phryne beamed in response. “It’s so good to see you boys too!”

“Yeah, good thing you’re up since we’ve got some fresh intel that we knew you’d want to hear straight away,” Bert added, his words sprawling around the cocktail stick he was always chewing on. He claimed helped with his attempts to quit smoking.

“Bert, not whilst she’s still in hospital,” Dot immediately reprimanded him, even as Phryne perked up in anticipation.

“Miss Williams is absolutely right,” yet another voice pierced through the private, but now steadily crowded room, that parted in the wake of Prudence Stanley. “Oh, my dear, what a fright you keep shattering our poor wits with! It’s all I can take of having your mother constantly trying to Skype me with any further updates. You’d better send her a message soon before she really does board the first flight here. Of course, I wouldn’t mind so much so long as she doesn’t drag your father with her.”

A lively argument ensued, and it was in the midst of this pandemonium that Jane took advantage of to lean up and whisper into her foster mum’s ear:

“I’ve got a message from Jack for whenever you woke up. He hoped you could join him for a ‘nightcap at the nunnery’ once you were discharged.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Phryne whispered her grateful response before kissing the dear girl’s forehead. Jane returned the sentiment with a peck on the older woman’s cheek before sitting up and helping herself to one of the scones Dot had brought along and forgotten about on the hospital tray, the assistant’s focus now on the fracas around them.

“OK, everyone, now that you’ve all been to see Phryne, I absolutely must insist that you all vacate the room immediately so my patient can rest,” Mac successfully quelled any attempts to argue, especially from the red raggers. “I’m afraid that also means you, Mrs Stanley.”

“But, will she need to stay here for long, Dr MacMillan? If so, then I must insist on having her moved to the private wing immediately.” It simply wasn’t enough that her niece already had a private room on the regular ward.

“Aunt P!” Phryne groaned just before Mac managed to hide her exaggerated eye roll from the older woman.

“Actually, based on her vitals and the low intensity of her injuries, there’s no need for that as we may just need to keep her here overnight for observation.”

“Thank you for coming to see me, Aunt Prudence,” Phryne consoled her. “I’ll be sure to text Mother, and let you know once I’m home.”

“Oh, all right, my dear, I’ll go find Dorothy and ask her to cancel that follow-up cocktail reception with the Munchens tomorrow all the same. Do let me know if there’s anything at all that you need.”

“Thank you, Mac!” Phryne immediately began pushing the covers away as soon as the coast was clear. “For everything.” She teetered over towards her oldest friend and wrapped her into a grateful hug.

“I really ought to keep you here overnight if only because I really am terrified of your aunt. But then you’d just climb out the window if I tried,” Mac grumbled accusingly after squeezing her best friend in return, before leaning over in resignation to scribble her signature on some paperwork that she brandished with an annoyed huff. “So, I shall begrudgingly discharge you so you can go see for yourself that Jack’s still in one piece.”

“You know me too well, old bean,” Phryne teased with a salute to acknowledge how well Mac could read her thoughts. She then began to reach for the discharge papers before Mac suddenly whipped them away again.

“But you tell your inspector he’ll have me to reckon with if either of you shows up here again with so much as a scratch any time soon. Got it?”

“Roger that,” Phryne didn’t bother hiding her cheeky grin. “‘Sides, you don’t have to worry, I think Jack’s more scared of you than he is of Aunt P. Probably because she’s mostly bluster, but you actually know at least a hundred ways to dissect someone.”

“Actually, darling, I think he’s only truly terrified of you,” Mac calmly stated. “But, it’s good to know I still have some sway.”

Phryne responded to Mac’s wink by blowing her a kiss. The doctor simply shook her head as her favourite human vortex engulfed her in another hug before whisking herself into the fresh set of clothes Dot had brought her and vanished from the room.


	6. Chapter 6

The cool night breeze teased the hair curling out from beneath her navy beret, which was Phryne’s second preferred one for any after dark excursions. She had faith that her favourite black one would hopefully be revived back to life by Dot’s magical prowess from its unceremonious baptism. From her perch in the corner of the convent’s bell tower belfry, the humanitarian could see the fountain that had more or less saved her and Jack from serious injury or worse as she stood there surveying the grounds below. 

As she waited, she continued to study the cordoned area below where several police officers still rummaged through what was left of the apartment and storage area where she and the inspector had managed to have their stealthy rendezvous. Half of the wing now yawned in exposure to the police spotlights by the night crew. Once in awhile, she caught glimpses of colour reflecting off one or two jagged remains of the once grimy, yet still beautiful stained glass windows. 

Phryne then leaned over to survey the side of the tower she stood on wondering where Jack was as her mind mulled over the latest intel that she had finally gathered from the eager cabbies after making her great hospital escape. Apparently, the current buzz from the untraceable chat rooms and other channels that her consultants made a point of frequenting was that there was some link to the explosion and a notorious, outlaw biker gang. Although she was still waiting to confirm her suspicions, Phryne had instinctively known that it was the very same gang that Jack had been infiltrating. 

The other interesting tidbits that the consultants had dug up was that the former convent had been a youth reformatory and halfway house for girls in the 1970s that had closed down several decades ago. Since then, the order had been slowly selling off pieces of their land to select buyers with proven links to the faith. Thus far, Bert and Cec hadn’t been able to uncover anything untoward, but Phryne wondered whether there were any other prerequisites linking all of the buyers. She was also keen to discover whether there might be anything significant about the Strano family being the most recent buyer, especially as last night’s deliberate sabotage had seriously delayed their new bakery’s opening.

Suddenly, the grounds below were plunged into darkness, prompting Phryne to spin on her heel and quickly retrace her steps to the narrow spiral staircase that she easily navigated downward through the tower. Although Jack hadn’t shown up yet, she figured it wouldn’t hurt for her investigation to continue now that the police were finishing for the night. Taking advantage of the shadows, Phryne skirted her way around the building towards the dormitory wing. As she passed beneath the window of the convent’s former kitchen and designated site for the bakery, the philanthropist decided to change direction slightly. She then pulled herself up, and clambered onto the window sill to peer inside.

“For someone so fond of making grand entrances, you certainly go out of your way to avoid normal doorways otherwise,” came an amused voice from below.

“Grand entrees are only worth it when there’s an audience, darling,” she retorted in a mock haughty tone, “Although, I do make exceptions for special, private audiences too.” On that note, she elegantly leaped off the sill and into Jack’s waiting arms below.

“I’ll make a note to remind you of that,” he promised, catching her effortlessly and managing to hide his amusement as she made a show of a slowly sliding down the rest of his body. He then gave her a slight smirk when she remained glued to his side even after her feet had touched the ground. “Perhaps, in a more intimate setting?”

“Damn you, Jack Robinson!” She then gripped his face and pulled his head down towards her, finally able to release the compressed relief and pent up worry that she’d been forced to stamp back until she could confirm his well-being for herself. His response matched hers in fervour as he backed her against the brick wall, only to pull back abruptly when he sensed her wincing.

“What is it, Phryne? Mac assured me that you hadn’t sustained any major injuries, but…” he paused when she placed a finger gently against his lips to stop his worried rambling. 

“I’m fine, Jack, just a few bruises that should heal up nicely,” she sought to reassure him, reaching out to run her hands down his arms as though to make sure that he also wasn’t hiding any sinister wounds. “Well, perhaps it’d be best if we both avoided close encounters with any more concrete for the time being.”

He cocked his head to the side in his assessing manner before cupping the side of her face gently. 

“Walking away from you in that hospital bed was one of the hardest things I’ve ever been forced to do.” 

“I know,” she quickly validated him. “I wouldn’t have wanted to leave you either if our positions had been reversed.” She leaned in to demonstrate just how vehement she was about that fact. “But, Mac was right, there was nothing for you to worry about, and you couldn’t have jeopardized the case, or your job, for no good reason.”

He looked as though he wanted to argue, but swallowed his words and settled for giving her another soft kiss instead before taking her hand. “I bow to your infinite wisdom, as per usual, Miss Fisher. For now, would you care for a nocturnal visit to a bakery with me?”

“Haven’t I always said that you certainly know how to turn a girl’s head, Inspector?”

They approached a massive archway spanning a set of double, oak doors that no doubt led to the former kitchen and new bakery’s main entrance. 

“Allow me,” Jack requested when he noticed Phryne beginning to reach inside her decolletage, no doubt for her set of lockpicks. Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, he withdrew a small, old-fashioned key that he brandished with his hint of a smile before inserting it into the door’s lock. 

“My never-ending source of mystery,” she grinned, whilst trying to ignore the sudden twinge in her gut when she wondered how he had obtained the key, or more precisely, from whom. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice the slight change in her demeanor, as he was too busy glancing about after having opened the large portal and gesturing for her to take the lead inside. 

By unspoken agreement, they split up and began to explore using their portable torches to sweep the area. Jack wandered over to look around the half dozen or so collection of arm chairs, settees and sofas dotted amidst an array of coffee and side tables. Phryne decided to examine the other side of the counter where the convent’s original wood ovens were still located, no doubt as a feature of the new bakery. She shone her light over the other equipment including the new espresso machines and stacks of crockery and cups, and then back again over the wood ovens until something twinkled briefly as it reflected a smidgen of her torchlight’s beam. Stepping closer, she was about to plunge her upper body inside the oven to see if she could locate the object when she felt a firm set of hands grip her about the waist.

“I should think you’ve had enough of combustive activities since last night, Miss Fisher, without risking yourself to wood fire, too.”

“There’s something in there, Jack!” She quickly rebuffed him. “Besides, there’s nothing here that I can detect that smells ominous. That’s how I knew something was off last night. I recognized the distinct odour of explosives from my time clearing out landmines in Cambodia.”

“So, what have you found?” Jack tried to get her to refocus, not wanting to dwell on the previous night’s near miss or the thought of her anywhere near a landmine for the time being.

“Aha, I knew there was something in here,” Phryne crowed triumphantly, having found some tongs to poke through the ashes. “Amidst these ashes...but why would there be ashes if nothing’s been cooked or baked in here yet?”

“Maybe they’ve been testing them to make sure things are ready?”

“But, then why leave things so disorderly? They must have to pass inspections before they can open. Everything else in this entirely place is pristine and looks like a stage set, just ready for opening night.”

“Hmm, that is odd. Concetta said her brother has been anxious for them to have the grand opening in several weeks. This bakery project has been his baby, so to speak, and he’s been keen to impress their dad.” Jack then paused to watch as his partner withdrew the cooking utensil from the oven to reveal something on a small, gold chain. 

“Is that some sort of chain?” He quickly pulled on some gloves when she dangled the object out to him.

“I think it’s a necklace, Jack,” she observed, putting down the tongs to add her combined torchlight to his as they examined it in his large hand. “Yes, that’s definitely a locket, albeit a rather singed one now.”

Jack tried to pry the tiny clasp open, but couldn’t manage with his gloved fingers. He raised an eyebrow towards Phryne who had now slipped on her own black, leather gloves and eagerly began to work at the locket with her more nimble fingers. Finding a tiny button on the side, she pressed it, and gasped when the clasp gave and they found themselves staring down at the tiny faces of a young man and woman side-by-side.

“How curious,” she remarked. “I wonder who these two are, although, the man looks vaguely familiar to me, but I don’t actually know him. So, how did their photos end up at the bottom of an ash pile in an unopened bakery’s oven? We should question the owners tomorrow, Jack.”

“Yes, I’ll certainly be doing that,” he agreed in a tone that made her look up at him sharply.

“You know who the photographs are of,” she stated, rather than asked. “But how?”

“This photo is of Vincenzo Strano, Concetta’s younger brother,” Jack confirmed.

“Of course, he was the bartender at the club,” Phryne smacked her forehead, ignoring Jack’s slight frown. “He was there the other night when, well, you know, I saw you at our booth...” 

“With Concetta,” he agreed without any further preamble. “Yes, Vincenzo splits his time between the family’s original restaurant and their new club. Which is why he’s been chomping at the bit to branch out on his own and launch this bakery.”

“So this mysterious woman must be his sweetheart?”

“I’m not certain, but seeing how her photo is next to his in a heart-shaped locket, that very well could be. I’ve never seen her before, at least not in person.”

“What do you mean, Jack?” Phryne immediately asked. “Who is she?”

“This is the missing legal assistant from my current case, Phryne,” Jack said. “Marianna Carbonne, who disappeared without a trace the day her boss was publicly assassinated. And now, this gives me further reason to believe the biker gang we’ve been following was also responsible for the bomb we encountered last night. I’ve been following leads that indicate they may have some type of vendetta against the Stranos as well.”

“If that’s the case then, were they trying to send some extreme message by placing the bomb? What are they trying to warn them off about?”

"Or maybe the bomb was someone’s way of trying to destroy evidence,” Jack concluded. “At least we have a new lead that directly links at least one of the Stranos to this young woman who is also connected to the dead solicitor.”

“Who would have had access to this locket? Assuming it belongs to either Vincenzo or Marianna?”

“Considering we’ve discovered it in the Strano’s bakery, I’d have to say Vincenzo considering Marianna has gone missing….” Jack speculated before trailing off.

“Or Concetta,” Phryne said. “Either way, looks like you’ll have to a good chat with your old friend, Jack, because it seems to me that she or her brother could be caught up in some serious danger.”

Jack’s only response was to nod grimly. 


	7. Chapter 7

“So where were you planning to camp out for the evening now that your former, temporary abode no longer exists?” Phryne casually enquired.

The two of them had just slipped through the bakery’s back door after deciding there wasn’t anything further to investigate there for the time being. Jack wasn’t at all fooled by her seemingly nonchalant tone, stopping in his tracks abruptly and tugging on her hand so that her body twirled into his.

“Why, under yonder stars, my lady, as I really should stick around the premises whilst I’m on duty. Care to join me?”

“Very tempting offer, Inspector.”

Jack then wrapped his arms around her waist and demonstrated just how tempting his offer could be. She stared up in mock annoyance at his smug look when the need for oxygen forced them to separate.

“There’s more where that came from if you needed more persuasion, Miss Fisher.”

Phryne never ceased to be amazed by this delightful man and tiptoed up to show her appreciation once more.

“Well, I did happen to come across the perfect camping spot that will afford us shelter as well as the best view for stargazing.”

“Actually, an actual roof sounds a lot better than risking the open,” he agreed. “Although, I’m afraid you might not find my idea as enticing once you find out I had to borrow Collins’ sleeping bag from HQ since mine got blown up.”

“Why, Jack, you know what they say about the best way to keep warm,” Phryne teased as she tugged on his arm to lead him in the direction of the bell tower.

In keeping with her seductive taunt, she immediately took advantage of the dark alcove soon as the two of them had slipped through the side door she had used earlier. Grabbing Jack by the front of his jacket, she launched herself up and wrapped her arms and legs around him, again fully giving into the relief of having him whole and unscathed from their harrowing escape the night before. Always in sync, the inspector responded with equal fervour as he carried her further into the dark passageway until they found themselves against the far corner. Heedless of the cold bricks against her back this time, Phryne tilted her head back when Jack began to kiss his way across her now exposed collarbone when something filtered into her hazy senses.

“Jack, wait, did you hear that?”

“Hmmm…? Little busy at the moment...” he stopped when she quickly pushed his head away and held up a finger to his lips. They both strained to listen as their heavy breathing began to slow down.

“There’s something behind this wall,” Phryne whispered as she reluctantly unhooked her legs from around Jack’s waist and slid silently back to the ground.

“Could be some mice or other type of wildlife,” he reasoned, beginning to shine his portable torchlight onto the spot Phryne had indicated. “This place hasn’t been used for years.”

“No, it sounded like a voice, I think,” Phryne stated as she pressed her ear up against the wall.

Jack then shone the light downwards towards the dirty, leaf-strewn ground, pausing when a faint scratching noise became audible.

“Wait, shine it down over here, Jack!”

He quickly did so, his eyes widening just as Phryne gasped when the light revealed the faintly glowing traces of small footprints in the dust. There was another, larger set alongside them. Jack bent down to examine the dirt beneath the leaves, but only the smaller set lit up in an eerie blue glow wherever the torchlight swept past.

“Do ghosts haunt old convents?” He could tell from her tone that she was teasing him in spite of the seemingly paranormal evidence before them. “Are you scared, Jack?”

“Only of you,” he retorted in his mock stoic tone, standing again to follow the direction of the prints.

“Hmmph, that’s what Mac said,” she pouted, following him as both sets of footprints stopped at the wall adjacent to where the stairs leading upwards to the bell tower began. “So, either these two really were ephemeral enough to be able to walk straight through walls, or…Jack, over here!”

He again swung the beam towards the sound of her voice and to where she was examining something on the corner of the wall. The unmistakable outline of a blue handprint glowed back at them. Phryne pulled on her gloves and excitedly began poking at the brickwork around the print when she stopped, her own expression mirroring Jack’s when they both heard the muffled, yet distinct human-like tones of someone’s voice. Her finger caught on a slight edge that was smoother than the rest of the facade, which she pushed on, the action producing a small latch. With a look of resolution she glanced back at Jack who nodded, silently confirming he was ready whenever she was. Phryne looped two of her fingers around the latch and pulled with all her strength.

The wall seemed suddenly shifted, revealing a small, hidden passageway that wound downwards. The rest was shrouded behind the slight figure of an extremely dirty and dishevelled young woman clinging to the top step. In spite of her pitiful state, both the inspector and humanitarian reacted immediately as the light illuminated her bruised and tear-streaked features.

“Marianna!” Phryne cried out as she suddenly recognized the woman from the locket.

The other woman nodded weakly as Jack quickly averted the light from her eyes, and he and Phryne rushed down the steps towards the young woman. Phryne wrapped an arm around the girl as Jack hovered behind in case she tripped and fell.

“You’re safe now, Marianna,” she reassured the young woman, assessing her briefly for any visible injuries. “I’m Phryne Fisher, and this is Detective Inspector Jack Robinson. We’ll both get you out of here and to a hospital right away”

“Thank you,” Marianna rasped out as they emerged into the alcove, where Jack moved ahead of them to find a better signal for his mobile phone. He placed a call to Collins and then turned to light the women’s path with his torchlight. Upon seeing the glowing footprints, she suddenly stopped and frantically gripped Phryne’s arm. “Wait, you have to help my fiance!”

“Do you mean Vincenzo Strano, Ms Carbonne?” Jack swung around to verify after finishing his brief call.

“Yes, Inspector,” she continued agitatedly as they emerged into the cool night air. “The men who took me, they said they were going to attack the Stranos’ club!”

“When, Marianna? Are they planning to bomb it?” Phryne asked as she guided her charge across the courtyard towards the few remaining police officers guarding the bombed site.

“I-I’m not sure...all I know is that they’ve got something against Vincenzo’s family. That’s why they abducted me. They said they would kill my manager who is a high-profile prosecutor. I also know they’ve taken me to blackmail Vincenzo and his family. They’ve been trying to find out what my boss and I have been working on against outlaw bikers like them.”

“What do they look like, Ms Carbonne? The men who took you?” Jack enquired.

“It’s hard for me to say, Inspector, since they kept me drugged and bound in the dark most of the time. But, the one man I remember seeing the most has dark hair and a small moustache. And a scar.” She then reached up to trace a finger down from the corner of her right eye down just below her nose. “From the little I could hear and understand, since my Italian isn’t as good as it should be, this man comes and goes from Italy to take on commissions from the mob. I think he could be the hitman they hired to take out my boss, Andre.” Her face then crumpled as she fought against the overwhelming shock and emotions of her ordeal now taking over.

“You’ve been extremely brave, Marianna. Try not to worry, we’ll get it all sorted out,” Phryne calmed her reassuringly after sharing a pointed look at Jack who had then handed over his torchlight so he could send a few text messages from his phone. “The inspector knows Vincenzo’s sister, and has been working hard to stop this gang.”

“Concetta?” Marianna suddenly halted and recoiled from Phryne’s touch, nearly causing the philanthropist to trip over her unexpected movement. “No, she’s one of them!”

Before Phryne could query the young woman’s reaction further, they were interrupted by a flurry of sounds and activity as officers and emergency vehicles seemed to swarm around them. Whilst Jack went to brief one of the officers, Phryne stayed with Marianna after a paramedic team had rushed over and until the young woman was safely transported into an ambulance. Only then did Miss Fisher turn just in time to see Jack sprinting towards her.

“Here, you’ll need this” he instructed, placing a round object he had been holding right over her head, and tugging it down into place just as she registered that it was a motorcycle helmet. He then took her hand and led her back into the convent grounds until they reached his Harley that he had half-hidden behind the fountain that had helped saved their life the night before. “Even a gang member knows better than to attempt to steal a bike from right under the noses of a police guard.”

Phryne grinned in response before hopping onto the back of the motorcycle, and wrapping her arms snugly around her inspector just as he revved the engine before they careened off into the night.

*-*-*

“Neither of them are in their usual places,” Jack confirmed as he slid into the booth across from Phryne who had been keeping an eye on the noisy scene around the club. “I’m going to go check the restaurant next door.”

“I’m coming with you then.”

“No, stay here until Collins arrives,,” he interrupted her abruptly before reaching out to grasp her hand and continuing in a gentler tone. “I’m sorry, please stay, Phryne, in case either of them show up. Then, you can call me right away to let me know. I’ve already alerted our back-up, but they’re not here yet.”

Everything within her fought to maintain control, every instinct screamed for her to not let him out of her sight. He gripped her hand harder with that look in his eyes that always got to her.

“Five minutes, Jack. If you don’t come back or I don’t hear from you in five minutes….”

“Thank you, Phryne,” he breathed in relief, leaning over to kiss her on the top of her head. “Collins should be here any minute with back-up. I hate to leave you here on your own, but...at least I know you’re trained to defend yourself.”

“Four minutes and thirty seconds, Jack Robinson!”

He rushed off as she reached inside her inner coat pocket to reassuringly pat the small, golden revolver with a pearl handle tucked away there. It was a genuine Smith and Weston that she had acquired for her vintage antiques collection at home, so she wasn’t strictly meant to be out and about with it. She wasn’t even sure if it still worked, although Mr Butler had assured her it did as he was the one who usually kept it polished along with the rest of her collection of art deco and vintage memorabilia. Still, no one else was to know it was more or less a museum piece.

“Oh, bollocks to this!” She muttered to herself as the music cranked up to a deafening roar, but was still no match for her overpowering instincts setting her on alert.

Jumping to her feet, she quickly exited the club and then skirted into the alleyway between the building and that of the restaurant. The darkness hid her from any revellers on the pavement as she slowed down towards a set of doors. Pulling on the handle, it opened noiselessly, and she found herself inside a back corridor that seemed to wind towards the restaurant’s interior. She again slowed down at the sound of loud voices and edged towards the slightly opened door into a richly decorated palazzo-styled room where an older gentleman with silver hair sat at a round table. Across from him sat an elegantly dressed figure who had just risen to her feet indignantly.

“Absolutely not, Papa, what century are you living in?”

“Sit down, girl, and listen to me! This would provide the protection that our family needs.”

“What protection? That’s what the police are for!”

“Bah, what good are they? Can’t trust any of them to do their jobs, here or back home in the Old Country. I should never have let you go study at the university, giving you all rebellious ideas! You should have stayed home.”

“You manipulated me once into a bad marriage, Papa, I refuse to allow you to try it again! Especially to that horrid bastard!”

“Why, Connie, that’s certainly not the impression you’ve been giving me all this time,” came a smooth voice with a strong Italian accent. Phryne bit back a gasp as she shrank further into the corridor after seeing the newcomer’s moustache and unmistakable scar when he stepped into her line of sight. “Although, I’m beginning to think you’ve been leading me on these days. I’ve seen the way you look at that new bloke...this _Gianni_ , if that’s even his real name!”

Concetta didn’t respond, going visibly pale, in spite of the defiant expression still twisting her flawless complexion.

“What? So, this is how you treat me then after all I’ve done for you?” Her father began his own tirade again. “All that expensive schooling? Finding you good husbands? Now, you show your gratefulness like this, just like spitting in my face?”

“Papa!”

“You know what, she isn’t worth my time anymore, Antonio,” the scar-faced man drawled as he pulled on black leather gloves and eased a menacing pistol out from inside his jacket and aimed it at Concetta. Before anyone could react, a distinct clicking sound echoed throughout the room.

“If you even move a bristle of that disgusting moustache, I’ll blow a hole right through this hideous jacket,” Phryne hissed threateningly as she jabbed her revolver even harder into the thug’s back. “Now, put your gun down!”

“And just who do you think you are? I’ve got a few friends surrounding this entire restaurant you ought to know about,” the other man sneered. “One hint from me and they’ll blow it all up.”

“That would be difficult to do if you’ve got a hole in your head now wouldn’t it?” She then dragged the metal upwards and jabbed it against the back of his head in warning. “Besides, I’ve also got a good friend close by, and you really don’t want to meet him right now!”

The man unexpectedly ducked and twisted around, tackling Phryne to the ground with an angry slew of threats as he reached for her throat.

“Miss Fisher is right,” came Jack’s steely baritone. His eyes smouldered with barely tempered rage as he yanked the man up by his hair and locked the Italian’s head into a threatening choke hold before shoving him roughly back down to handcuff his arms behind his back. “You’re under arrest, Roberto Salvatore, for the assassination of Andre Morello, the abduction of Marianna Carbonne, now the assault and attempted murder of Phryne Fisher...and a whole racket of other crimes including arson and conspiracy.”


	8. Chapter 8

_Several weeks later_

“A toast then to the happy couple!”

A joyous groundswell of cheering and well wishes swept throughout the crowd assembled under the luxurious marquee as glasses were raised and happily sipped in tribute to the glowing bride and groom. Phryne intertwined her arm with Jack’s before tipping hers back in one big gulp, her tongue darting out to lap up every last drop. He gave her his enigmatic smile before leaning over to give her a gentle, but promising kiss, heedless of the audience surrounding them.

“ _Bene_ , drink up, my friends,” a voice teasingly interrupted them as Concetta materialized before their table, an expensive bottle of wine dangling from her hands that she proceeded to pour into the empty glasses before them. “We owe you both so much for our happiness and well-being today.”

“ _Grazie_ , but you played your own major part in it as well, Concetta,” Jack affirmed, raising his glass to her. “Never forget that.”

“Of course, Gianni,” she smiled at him, a hint of wistfulness touching her eyes. “I will never forget any of our time together. May you both continue to experience years of happiness together even as we wish so for my brother and his new bride today.”

“We wish the same for you as well, Concetta,” Phryne smiled at the Italian woman. 

“Thank you, Phryne, for giving me this hope,” Concetta responded.

“What will you do now that you and your brother have full ownership of your family’s businesses?” Jack queried. Antonio Strano had also been arrested, and it looked as though he would be put away for a very long time once he was indicted for his own long list of mob activity.

“I think I may take up a new research and translation position with the Italian government, as a matter of fact. Time for me to leave Melbourne for awhile and let old ghosts and hopes die. But do come visit if you’re ever in the Old Country.” She then reached out her free hand to grasp Phryne’s, then caressed Jack’s cheek briefly before she turned and vanished again into the merry crowd.

Phryne watched the other woman go thoughtfully until she felt herself pulled into a very comforting and familiar pair of arms.

“Penny for your thoughts, Miss Fisher?”

“Ready to be bankrupted, Inspector?”

“I’ve already lost everything else to you, so why not?” She beamed her impish smile at him before nuzzling his throat.

“I was thinking how happy I am that this case has had such a ‘happily ever after’ ending, especially when it could have gone the other way so many times. And to our own detriment as well.”

Jack remained quiet as he kissed the top of her head, absorbing all that his partner was also not saying. Then, he discreetly stood up and pulled Phryne along with him.

“Care for a stroll, Miss Fisher?”

“Always, Inspector,” she immediately replied, her curiosity nearly equalling her desire to be alone with Jack.

The two slipped out unnoticed from the rest of the wedding guests before they meandered across the convent’s grounds. She gazed at the large fountain in the courtyard and then over towards the dormitory and storage wing that were already undergoing new renovations. Vincenzo was still eager for the bakery to open as soon as possible, which was why he and Marianna had decided to not wait and hold their wedding on the premises for added luck and publicity. Phryne pulled herself from her thoughts and glanced up when she saw that Jack was leading her towards the bell tower.

“We never did get to our stargazing that other night,” she commented with a grin.

“My thoughts exactly,” he replied as they both slipped into the now familiar alcove.

It had now been swept clean after the joint investigation team had combed through the area following Marianna’s rescue.

“Maybe, we should ask Marianna and Vincenzo to demonstrate their glow-in-the dark secret to us sometime. Could come in handy,” Jack remarked as they crossed the now pristine floor.

“That was some quick thinking she did to grab the luminescent mixture when they had kept her hidden under everyone’s nose at the club’s storage room. And to rub it into her shoes when she realized where they were next taking her.”

Everyone had marvelled at the legal assistant’s ingenuity for recognizing the ingredients that Vincenzo had showed her when she became curious about the club’s luminescent cocktails. And how well she had been able to use the knowledge to hasten her eventual rescue from the convent’s hidden passageway. Apparently, the secret entrance had been used originally by the nuns as a way to relocate their troubled charges to and from the tower to other parts of the convent to ensure the young women’s ‘sins’ weren’t broadcasted to any outsider’s eyes.

“She’ll make a fine solicitor some day,” Jack agreed as the two of them ascended the stairs towards the top of the bell tower. “I know that everyone involved in this case has been more than relieved we’ve also been able to finally prove Salvatore’s part in the death of Concetta’s husband’s death as well, no matter how painful it was to discover the intel we needed.”

Alongside her quick thinking with the glowing substances, Marianna had also made numerous and detailed back-up copies of everything she and her boss had gathered about the outlaw biker gang and their illegal activities, including mysterious payments that the police were now able to trace to accounts owned by the international killer-for-hire, Roberto Salvatore. It was tragic that the information most likely led to the solicitor’s killing. But, at least, he and his resourceful assistant had gathered more than enough information to put away the gang and the notorious assassin for a good long time.

Phryne squeezed his hand in understanding. “To think they even tried to take out Vincenzo in retaliation.” Amazingly, the bakery bombing and destruction of Marianna’s locket as a warning to the younger Strano did little to deter either his sister’s or fiancee’s determination for justice.

“Wonder women, that’s what you all are,” Jack agreed in that uncanny way he had of being able to read her thoughts. They had finally reached the top when he turned towards Phryne, holding both her hands in his. “And I’m constantly in wonder by you in particular, Miss Fisher. By your incredibly generous heart and your fearless courage. By the fact that you’re still standing here at my side.”

Phryne fought back the intensive emotions overcoming her at the moment, especially as she watched Jack let go of one of her hands to reach inside his tuxedo jacket to pull out a small, ornate box. He placed it inside her hand before continuing.

“Phryne, you must know that I wouldn’t give my heart to anyone I didn’t love madly,” he confessed, reaching out to gently caress her face. “Though I didn’t always reveal it at the start, I’ve also known from the moment we met that my heart belonged to you. Way before you ever thought of claiming it. So, I wanted to do something extra-special to show you how grateful I am to you for sharing my journey with me, and allowing me to share yours. Would you now do me the honour of sharing a new adventure with me?”

“Jack,” she whispered, suddenly unable to say anything else. Was she ready for this, she questioned herself? She had always prided herself on being unattached, on having the freedom to come and go from person to person, place to place without worrying about the hassles that came with long-term commitments. Then, this unassuming, yet endearingly mysterious man had appeared in her life (or she had intruded on the first of many of his cases, to be precise). And now, she had to admit she couldn’t imagine experiencing life without him. Especially after this case when it had hit home harder than ever how close she could have been to losing him. Not just to a bomb or an assassin, but to another woman who could have easily laid claim to his heart and affections. Yet here he was, standing before her during this moment comfirming that it was to her whom he had entrusted his heart.

Phryne tentatively began to lift the lid of the beautiful box. It opened slowly to reveal...a small silver key.

“Don’t worry, I won’t ruin the moment by saying I’m giving you the ‘key to my heart,’ or something equally cringe-worthy,” Jack grinned down at her bewildered expression. He then leaned down to kiss her forehead gently as he saw her quick mind putting all the puzzle pieces together.

“It’s too small to be a key to a building. Or a car,” she began to work out slowly as her face lit up. “Oh, Jack, did you really get me my own motorbike?”

“I had some help choosing the matching helmet,” he admitted. “But, yes, Miss Fisher, you are now the proud owner of a vintage Vespa!”

“Oh, you wonderful man!” And she launched herself into his arms to show him just how wonderful she thought of him. As the sound of another cheer reached them from the wedding party below, they eventually emerged from their embrace, both trying to catch their breaths.

“Do you want to get out of here so you can go test it out?” Jack’s lips twitched in that way when he was hiding how mischievous he was feeling. She reached out her hand to trace his beautiful mouth.

“Later, Inspector,” she whispered, leaning in to playfully in that sultry tone that always did dangerous things to various parts of his anatomy. “Right now, I’m much more interested in a different type of ride.”

“Well, you’re the one with the key...to my heart.”

“Oh, just shut up and kiss me, Jack Robinson!”

Then, unbeknownst to the couple who were oblivious to anything else surrounding them, the bells began to ring ardently around them, having been fixed just in time for the happy occasion that day.

-END-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I had fun with my research for this story, and thought I’d share some of the sources for my inspiration:
> 
> The case fic idea came from [this article](https://www.theage.com.au/national/victoria/italian-authorities-slam-australias-inadequate-policing-of-mafia-gangs-in-wake-of-acquaro-murder-20160318-gnlqee.html) about the tragic assassination of an anti-Mafia prosecutor in Melbourne that has launched a real life investigation between Australian police and Italian crime fighters.
> 
> The setting for the Stranos' club came from [this upmarket bar in Melbourne](https://www.timeout.com/melbourne/bars/ms-collins).
> 
> The idea for Vincenzo’s bakery came from this actual bakery named [‘Convent Bakery’](http://www.conventbakery.com/#about-us) that exists on property once part of the Abbotsford Convent and home of the real life Sisters of the Good Shepherd.
> 
> And finally, I modelled my fictional convent on the real life [Convent of the Good Shepherd](https://www.findingrecords.dhhs.vic.gov.au/collectionresultspage/Convent-of-the-Good-Shepherd-Abbotsford), that really did once house ‘troubled’ young women and also became a halfway house for young people in the 1970s. 
> 
> The rest came from my own imagination, although I did have to google how to make luminescent cocktail drinks, LOL! Something to try for New Year’s Eve, perhaps, but if any of you have had a go, let me know how it turns out!


End file.
